


I Would Walk 500 More

by reinadefuego



Category: Tidelands (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Character Death Fix, Community: slashthedrabble, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 12:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinadefuego/pseuds/reinadefuego
Summary: First breakfast, then they decide whether to run or stay.Written for challenge 511 - "hungover" at slashthedrabble.





	I Would Walk 500 More

"You need to sit your arse down." Paul gestures to the table and tries to shoo Lamar away from the stove. He winces, mutters 'fuck' as his head begins to throb once more, and searches the cupboard in front of him. There should be a packet of disprin in there somewhere. "I can cook me own breakfast."  
  
"Are we  _really_  having this conversation again?" Lamar asks, and reaches for the spatula so he can flip the omelette. "And good morning to you too. Still got that caterpillar I see."  
  
Paul rolls his eyes and smacks Lamar playfully on the backside. What can he say? He looks bloody good with a moustache and Lamar knows it, otherwise Lamar probably would've shaved it off already while he slept. Not that he'd complain if Lamar  _did_.  
  
"Smells good," he adds, and kisses Lamar on the cheek. If he wasn't so in love with the guy, he'd almost take that tone of voice as being snobbish. Paul leans over the frypan and snags a loose chunk of cooked egg, shoving it in his mouth before Lamar can react. "Tastes—hot, hot!—good too."  
  
"Feeling better already?"  
  
Paul shrugs. His body should be used to the abuse by now. Finally he manages to find the elusive gold packet, tears out a tablet, and fetches himself a glass of juice to dissolve it in. "I didn't have that much..."  
  
Lamar had found him with the remains of a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, struggling to keep it together while he attempted to ascend the front steps leading into his old caravan. All things considered, Paul wasn't a complete alcoholic — but he certainly drank like one.  
  
Maybe it had been a bad idea going down to the grog shop after nearly being fucking killed, but Paul had needed something to take his mind off what'd happened. Off the way that psycho bitch had turned his arm into a cancerous mess. Inside the morgue, the shit had finally hit the fan and Lamar had almost died.  
  
Once everything's ready, Lamar plates up breakfast and sets it down on the dining table. They can figure everything out later, he decides. Whether they run or stay in Orphelin Bay. "Eat up."  
  
"Yes, dear," Paul jokes, and slides onto his seat. "Really though...thanks."  
  
Lamar smiles, takes Paul's hand in his and kisses it. "I'm just glad you're alive."


End file.
